Whatcha Gonna Do?
by chronicler-of-knuckles
Summary: LBATF- Little J.D. is sick. And the only thing he wants to make him feel better he can't have... 'cause Daddy Buck hasn't had the mumps... yet.


(Note: I'm kinda feelin' out the LB situation. been playing with them  
  
a bit in the W.O.W. challenges. So, I'm posting this here to see if  
  
someone would cirtque... let me know if I've got them right, this  
  
duel father thing. P.S. I had the mumps when I was five, so the only  
  
thing I know about them is from a fiver year old's POV. Hope I didn't  
  
blow it there either.)  
  
TITLE:"Whatcha gonna do?"  
  
AUTHOR: The Chronicler  
  
CHALLENGE: W.O.W. 1-26-04--MUMPS  
  
UNIVERSE: LB-ATF  
  
RATING: PG  
  
SUMMARY: Little J.D. has the mumps, and the only thing that he wants  
  
to make him feel better he can't have... because Daddy Buck hasn't  
  
had the mumps... yet.  
  
COMMENTS: Pretty please.  
  
EMAIL: chronicler_of_knuckles@y...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Whatcha gonna do?"  
  
By The Chronicler  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chris Larabee leaned over the tiny, sleeping form. "Come on, J.D.  
  
Open those big, beautiful eyes of yours." he coaxed. "Time to wake  
  
up." He gently brushed the unruly bangs away from his eyes. Despite  
  
knowing the reason, knowing that the child was, if not great,  
  
alright, he couldn't help but feel a little alarmed at the hot,  
  
clammy feel to his skin. "Come on, baby. wake up. You have to take  
  
you medicine." He gently patted the boy's cheek.  
  
The five year old moaned, rolling away and onto his side, his back to  
  
his father.  
  
"J.D." Chris tried to pull the boy back.  
  
"Nooo... Go away." J.D. moaned, weakly swatting at his hand.  
  
Chris frowned. "Boy, you are making this harder than it has to be."  
  
he reprimanded softly.  
  
The only answer was a tiny, tired hand dragging the covers up and  
  
over a little, black haired head.  
  
With a sigh, the father adjusted his position, leaning his back  
  
against the head board. Scooping up the boy, blankets and all, he  
  
cradled him against his chest.  
  
J.D. was too groggy, too uncomfortable to protest further than a  
  
groan. But, despite his desire to disappear back under his covers and  
  
be left alone, he couldn't resist the comfort of a father's big, warm  
  
chest, the sound of his heart beat, strong, protective arms wrapped  
  
around him... J.D. snuggled into Chris, laying his hot cheek over his  
  
heart.  
  
Chris smiled, relieved and comforted himself to have the little boy  
  
in his arms. Shifting the five year old until he was sitting up  
  
slightly against one arm, freeing the other, he retrieved the  
  
medicine dropper. Already measured, all he had to do was get J.D. to  
  
open his mouth and swallow.  
  
"Here you go, baby boy." He tapped the tip of the dropper against  
  
J.D.'s pale lips.  
  
"I'm not a baby!" J.D. protested, but, opening his mouth to speak was  
  
the opening Chris needed to slip the dropper in. but he pulled back  
  
and turned away, burring his face in Chris' shirt. "I want my daddy."  
  
he whimpered.  
  
Sighing, Chris glanced at the doorway where his partner paced.  
  
Buck stomped angrily back and forth across the doorway, glancing at  
  
his poor, little sick son. Damn, he wanted to run in there and scoop  
  
the little fellow up in his arms and just hold him, promise him it  
  
was gonna be alright, that everything was going to be just fine.  
  
Hell, it wasn't the little guy's fault Buck hadn't had the mumps. He  
  
shouldn't be denied his daddy just 'cause Buck hadn't had the good  
  
sense to get sick long ago.  
  
With a growl, Buck turned and stepped toward the bedroom.  
  
But Vin was suddenly standing in front of him, his little hands  
  
pushing against Buck's middle. "No, don't go in there!" Vin warned,  
  
his voice strong with determination. "J.D.'ll make you all sick and  
  
icky and miserable too!"  
  
"Vin?" Buck dropped down to one knee and hugged the seven year old.  
  
It felt good to hug one of the boy's, even if it wasn't the one who  
  
most needed it just right then.  
  
But Vin was determined to make his point. Pulling back, he looked at  
  
his father as sternly as he could. "Dad said so, said grownups get  
  
really really sick, sicker than little kids like J.D." He took Buck's  
  
face between his hands and looked directly into his eyes. "You don't  
  
want to be sick, now, do you?"  
  
Buck couldn't help but smile, both amused and overwhelmed with the  
  
boy's concern. He took the little hands in his own. "Vin, you'd take  
  
care of me if i got sick, wouldn't you?" he asked.  
  
"'Course, I would! That's my job: look after you. That's what Uncle  
  
Nathen said. I was supposed to look after you and keep you out of  
  
trouble whiles Dad looked after J.D." Vin's sharp eyes narrowed. "So,  
  
you're not supposed to get sick. 'Cause I'm lookin' after you and you  
  
can't go in there."  
  
Again Buck smiled. Should of known Nathen was the one to give the  
  
little watchdog his duty. Knowing how serious Vin took such tasks, he  
  
was almost ready to cave into the boy and allow him to lead him away,  
  
back to the frontroom.  
  
But then the hushed voices from the sick room sounded again...  
  
"Aw, come on, buddy. You gotta take your medicine." Chris was  
  
saying. "it'll make you feel better. I promise it will." He was  
  
getting frustrated and desperate.  
  
"Ah want my daddy!" J.D. insisted. He was in such misery that he was  
  
crying now. "Daddy makes me feel better!"  
  
Buck Sighed. He leaned his head against Vin's. "Well, I'm holdin' you  
  
to it, cowboy." he whispered. "I get sick, you take care of me." Then  
  
he rose to his feet, quickly stepped around the boy, and hurried into  
  
the room.  
  
"No... don't go in there!" Vin hollered after him, stomping his feet.  
  
Chris' eyes snapped up at the ruckus and glared at Buck. "What the  
  
hell do you think you're doin'?!" he growled. "You honestly think  
  
you're gonna get an ounce of sympathy from me when you get sick?"  
  
Buck grinned. "Vin says he'll take care of me." Then his expression  
  
became serious. "Chris, you can't ask me not to come a runnin' when  
  
J.D.'s callin' for me. You wouldn't stay away from Vin no matter what  
  
hurt it caused you. And I won't stay away from J.D.!" he swore.  
  
Chris glared a moment longer, then sighed. "Come on. Lets get this  
  
done with."  
  
Buck leaned over J.D. and whispered "Hey, baby boy, daddy's here."  
  
Instantly, J.D. rolled away from Chris and scrambled up onto Buck's  
  
lap. Digging his little fingers into Buck's collar, he buried his  
  
face in his chest. "I feel bad, daddy." he whimpered.  
  
In the comfort of his daddy's arms, it took little effort to get the  
  
boy to take his medicine. Then Buck laid down with J.D. still firmly  
  
attached to him. Chris covered them both up and left the room.  
  
At the door he looked down at little Vin who glared up at him.  
  
Vin frowned. "He's gonna get sick." he warned.  
  
"Yea, he is." Chris laid a hand on his son's shoulder and gently  
  
guided him down the hall. "Guess we'll have to take care of him when  
  
it comes." He sighed, not looking forward to such a time.  
  
Vin copied his sigh, mumbling "Kids. Whatcha gonna do?"  
  
Chris glanced down at him and chuckled. "Yea. Whatcha gonna do?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
